


dead heroes, no leaders

by Tattered



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - World War II, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 21:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13109133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tattered/pseuds/Tattered
Summary: War built them, but will love break them? (WWII AU)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I gasped when Damerey met at the end of The Last Jedi. And I am a sucker for World War II stories (case in point, Pearl Harbor). Sue me.
> 
> This is going to be brief. Enjoy?

He steps on the accelarator as the first of the bombs decimate their ships. He can feel his insides churning, the pulse from his carotid pulsating strongly on his neck. He fights the urge to vomit as he smells smoke.

The encrypted messages are lies. General Skywalker has them all figured out, and nobody believed him.

He races down the highway as if the devil is hot on his heels.

He reaches the hospital first, leaving his car haphazardly parked as a barrage of bodies nearly crushed him. Civilian. Soldier. Medical personnel. Bodies pass by him in a blur of limbs.

"Poe!"

Heavy air fills his lungs as he breaths. Good heavens, her voice is salvation in this sea of chaos. He seeks shelter on the post closest to the double doors, anchoring himself because he has to find her.

"Poe!"

She is a sight in her sleek blue dress. Her bare face gazes at him in relief, and he sees her leg moving faster towards his direction.

A bomb drops on the fountain by the driveway, and he is forced to stoop down. Hurriedly, he stands, waving the dust off his field of vision.

"Rey!"

Through the rubble, he senses more bodies frantically pushing themselves to the door. He coughs and yells her name again.

And she's standing right in front of him. Her presence doesn't register right away until her body collides with his. She holds him against her slender form, and he feels her fear spilling at the seams.

She pulls back and looks at him, and for a moment he feels his own fears about to cripple him.

One of the medics call her. She tightens her grip on his hand before letting go and taking one of the arms of a wounded man.

He turns back as well, running towards the direction of the aircrafts.

There is a war to be won.


	2. Chapter 2

Rey remembers her childhood in shades of blues and greens against a canvas of pale skin, in the harshness of painful shouts on her ear, in the near empty plates that lie on the dining table, in the breaks and mismatched patches of their house. She can barely conjure the image of the woman who bore her, nor the face of the man who has single-handedly ruined their family with every bottle of alcohol that littered their kitchen floor.

Then one day, the man didn’t come home. The woman searched for him and promised to come back.

They never did.

Rey is fortunate that her grandparents are still alive, else she will be forgotten within the system. She remains to live humbly, but their presence is an improvement from the fear of waking with bruised skin and broken bones. At times she wants to ask why they never interfered, but the time never felt right.

Rey knows that her grandmother tries, evident by the afternoons they spend on knitting, embroidery, and even baking. Her grandfather has taken a while to warm up, but he has more than made up for teaching her how they earn for a living through their farmland. At times, they are taken by their grief, and Rey gives them space. She understands that it is difficult to look at the image of the child they lost every day. Their pain is bearable.

Her stomach is never empty. Her body is clean. She learns things. She gets her hands on books of all sorts and learns to fix with tools from one of her grandfather’s workers, the very charming Han Solo.

Rey cannot ask for a better life.

* * *

She remembers hearing her grandfather talk to Han about the war.

Her grandfather is a war veteran from the first war that nearly divided the world. Rey never complains when he asks her to help rise from bed these days because of his bad leg, nor does she lose patience when she calls to him while standing on his left he takes his time mending to his plants because her voice doesn’t easily carry over. She doesn’t mind when he bids her to sleep by her grandmother’s side whenever memories flood to his consciousness in the middle of the night.

She simply leaves him with a glass of milk before closing the bedroom door.

On his part, Han is a patient listener. He takes every detail and knows how to make her grandfather laugh. Han is a good employee to his grandfather. A good friend even.

Han has his own demons. She notices how his hand grips tighter on the armrest at the idea of being at the thick of things. His nails nearly embed on wood when her grandfather mentions “spy” and “codes”. Hans spills his frustration about the inactivity – the news has been regulated from talking about the chaos in Europe – and his conviction sparks something within her.

A fortnight after, she decides to attend nursing school.

Not even a year after she left, news of Han Solo leaving his grandfather’s service reaches her.

* * *

Fresh from training, Rey is sent to Pearl Harbor.

She stays in a house turned dormitory with her fellow nurses, and is assigned to room with Rose Tico. Their ages and Rose’s tendency to be optimistic and to wear her heart on her sleeve has brought comfort to Rey, who tends to shy away from new people. They spend the first few days getting to know each other, and Rey wonders how Rose manages to be so giving of herself.

The start of the week brings about their hospital orientation. Head Nurse Amily Holdo wastes no time introducing them to the seemingly empty wards, where some of the nursing staff mingle and attempt to intimidate them. She calls them off with her anecdotes, and sets the visiting soldiers in place with carefully spoken warnings on having her supplies depleted with their rough-housing.

“Don’t mind those cahoots. They’re bulks of testosterone, but one look at a woman and all their tails are whipping. You better keep their wagging tongues off you, ladies.”

Rey coughs to hide her laugh.

* * *

She gets used to the monotony of counting supplies, practicing skills, and checking files day after day.

Monotony is better than the news she occasionally hears from the radio at the nurses’ station. Monotony is better than the underlying tension she sees in Head Nurse Holdo’s face after her closed-door meetings. Monotony is better than imbibing the idea that they’re simply biding their time.

Monotony, as she knows it, shatters one afternoon.

She is to return to the dormitory after her shift. The other ladies in their makeshift home invited them for dinner, and Rey has obliged. She wants to scrub the smell off her skin after spending the day monitoring a few soldiers who managed to eat spoiled food.

She hears the shouting first. The punch comes after, prompting Rey to lift her skirts and rush towards the sound. She pushes the assailant off the man on the grass.

“Who do you think you are?” She asks, glaring menacingly at the man who threw the punch.

The dark-haired assailant spits on the ground beside her. Rey barely manages to avoid. “Disrespectful cow!”

She kicks his leg, catching him off guard. The man loses his balance and topples by the sidewalk. He scrambles to his feet, and is poised to grab her when another voice interfered.

“Stand down, Hux. That’s a cheap shot you’re going to take.

Rey raises her head. The newcomer – an officer of higher rank, from what she can discern from his badges – is glaring at the man she just kicked. He motions for the man to leave.

Rey turns back, noticing the cane.

“Are you alright?” She asks. The man’s face crumples in pain as he attempts to lift himself, but nods in answer. “Let me help you,” she offers, reaching the cane and maneuvering her body so support the larger man.

“You certainly have a knack of getting yourself into trouble, trooper.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Dameron.”

“That’s Captain Dameron to you, officer.”

Rey cannot help but watch them, cannot help but look at the man opposite her. She knows her gaze lingers (his too), but she can only blink. He gives her a smile, and Rey does her best not to be disarmed.

“Captain Poe Dameron at your service, Ma’am.”

Her smile widens a bit. “Rey. Nurse Rey Ridley.”

 


End file.
